The imagery and diction chosen by Edna St. Vincent Millay suggest a sorrowful mood that matches the mournful prayer of the speaker in the first stanza: White sky, saw you not the buck and his doe? However they contrast the pensive tone of the speaker throughout the third stanza. In the midst of the imagery of the buck and his doe, the reader may miss other words that hint at the meaning of the poem.
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An Analysis of William Blake's Poem "London" Essay
London (William Blake poem) - Wikipedia
London is a poem by William Blake , published in Songs of Experience in It is one of the few poems in Songs of Experience that does not have a corresponding poem in Songs of Innocence. Blake lived in London so writes of it as a resident rather than a visitor. The "Songs of Innocence" section contains poems which reference love, childhood and nature.
The Buck in the Snow Poetry Explication Essay
In the poem, Bridges writes of a London whose grime and drudgery are briefly transformed by heavy snowfall. Drawing on the tradition of the Romantic poets , he pits the sublime power of nature against the grinding toil of the Industrial Revolution. While the snow's unifying and perfecting power is fleeting, it offers London's weary citizens a glimpse of a better world.
Turn On Annotation Robert Bridges. When men were all asleep the snow came flying, In large white flakes falling on the city brown, Stealthily and perpetually settling and loosely lying, Hushing the latest traffic of the drowsy town; Deadening, muffling, stifling its murmurs failing; Lazily and incessantly floating down and down: Silently sifting and veiling road, roof and railing; Hiding difference, making unevenness even, Into angles and crevices softly drifting and sailing. All night it fell, and when full inches seven It lay in the depth of its uncompacted lightness, The clouds blew off from a high and frosty heaven; And all woke earlier for the unaccustomed brightness Of the winter dawning, the strange unheavenly glare: The eye marvelled—marvelled at the dazzling whiteness; The ear hearkened to the stillness of the solemn air; No sound of wheel rumbling nor of foot falling, And the busy morning cries came thin and spare. For now doors open, and war is waged with the snow; And trains of sombre men, past tale of number, Tread long brown paths, as toward their toil they go: But even for them awhile no cares encumber Their minds diverted; the daily word is unspoken, The daily thoughts of labour and sorrow slumber At the sight of the beauty that greets them, for the charm they have broken.